


A Little Self Love

by Middle_Earth_Mama



Series: Johnlock Bagginshield Crackfics [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV), The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom John, Bottom John Watson, Crack Crossover, M/M, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Top Bilbo, What Have I Done
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-12 14:43:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29886141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Middle_Earth_Mama/pseuds/Middle_Earth_Mama
Summary: Bilbo and John make an interesting discovery. Sherlock is not surprised in the least, Thorin is not amused.Best if read with the series. I have more of these coming, each a little bit more ridiculous than the last.
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins/John Watson, Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Series: Johnlock Bagginshield Crackfics [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1787644
Comments: 7
Kudos: 11





	A Little Self Love

**Author's Note:**

> Forewarning, this is absurd. Hope you find it amusing!

It was getting late. John and Bilbo had spent most of the evening… doing something Thorin and Sherlock would have found completely boring. Thorin was in the throne room, doing kingly things, and Sherlock spent most of the day in his mind palace. John had given up trying to figure out what the hell he did in there. They had been with the dwarves in Erebor for several weeks, if Sherlock were correct, and everyone knew better than to suggest he wasn’t. 

“More tea?” Bilbo asked his guest as he went ahead and poured more into John’s cup.   
“Oh, er, yea. Yea, thanks. Cheers,” John answered.  
“Cheers?” Bilbo’s brow furrowed in a way John couldn’t help but grin at.  
“Yes, cheers. It’s an expression of good wishes.”  
“Oh. Well then why doesn’t one simply say, ‘good wishes’?”

John frowned at this. “I- I don’t really know.” He chuckled, and Bilbo couldn’t help but laugh too. Then the hobbit peered at John, his brow furrowing.   
“Have you noticed we have a very similar laugh?” Bilbo asked.  
“Well no. I suppose I don’t pay very close attention. Sherlock would be disgusted,” John quipped, taking another sip of tea. “Do you have any cream?” John looked up, noticing the cream right there on the table. He reached for it at the same moment as Bilbo, their fingers brushing for the briefest second. 

“Oh,” Bilbo pulled his hand back quickly as though burned. “I’m sorry.”  
“Whatever for?”  
“That felt…. Strange,” Bilbo admitted.  
John frowned. “A bit. Did it seem to you, and stop me if I sound crazy, that you could feel my hand feeling yours?”  
Bilbo nodded slowly. “It did. But how could that be?”  
John shrugged, turning back to his tea. “Sherlock would say it’s the author being an unimaginative twat.”  
Bilbo gave John a concerned look. “What the fuck does that mean?”  
John peered at the hobbit. “You don’t say fuck.”  
“No I don’t,” Bilbo looked thoughtful. He shrugged. “Well, I suppose I do now.”  
John huffed a chuckle. “Alright then.”

They sat in silence for a bit, each lost in his own thoughts.   
“You know,” John began carefully, “Sherlock seems to think we are the same person.”  
“Oh? And how exactly does that work?”  
John shrugged. “I don’t know. Something to do with some guy called ‘Martin Freeman’.”   
Bilbo frowned. “Never heard of him.”  
“Honestly, it didn’t make any sense to me, but neither do most things he says.”  
“That’s interesting. Do you suppose we have some of the same preferences?” Bilbo asked, getting a little excited at the thought of figuring out something new.   
“Perhaps.” John shrugged again. “Favorite color?”  
Bilbo told John his favorite color. John agreed. Sherlock wasn’t even there, and he was still irate over the author’s continuous inability to assign John a favorite color.

“Favorite season?” Bilbo asked.  
“Spring. Favorite beverage?”  
“Tea of course. Favorite dwarf?”  
“Thorin! Favorite position?”  
“Under a dark haired blue eyed idiot!”  
“My God,” John declared with a grin, “maybe we are the same person!”

“Do you…” Bilbo hesitated, seeming to think better of his question.  
“Yes?” John urged.  
“I hope this doesn’t weird you out, but would you mind experimenting with this phenomenon just a bit?”  
John shrugged. “I don’t see why not. What did you have in mind?”  
“Come,” Bilbo said with a grin as he rose from his chair.   
John pushed his chair back and followed suit, meeting Bilbo by the fireplace.   
“Press your hand to the brick. I want to see if we have some of the same sensations,” Bilbo urged. 

John set his hand flat against the brick around the fireplace. He wasn’t sure exactly where the dwarves had gotten red brick, or how he hadn’t noticed it before but that hardly mattered at the moment. 

“Do you feel it?” John asked curiously.  
“No. Nothing.” Bilbo frowned, then came closer. He slowly set his hand on John’s shoulder, and John jumped.   
“I feel that. As though my hand can feel the warmth of my own shoulder,” John said in surprise.  
“Interesting,” Bilbo stepped back, urging John to follow.   
“What about this?” John asked as he reached down and touched Bilbo’s face.  
“Yes! Yes, I can feel your hands and my own face in my hands!” Bilbo exclaimed. “What is this?”

“It’s… interesting, that’s for certain,” John stated.  
“Kiss me,” Bilbo demanded excitedly.  
John’s eye widened. “What?”  
“You heard me!”  
John huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “For science?”  
Bilbo frowned. “What?”  
John shook his head lightly. “Never mind. Come here.” He let out a determined huff and leaned down, pressing his lips to Bilbo’s, then quickly pulled away. “Well?”  
Bilbo huffed a chuckle. “Did you feel that?”  
“No,” John frowned. “Feel what?” Before Bilbo could answer, John leaned in again, hoping to answer the question for himself. 

Kissing Bilbo was… nice, but John wasn’t sure he could feel much aside from a usual kiss. He was sure they weren’t crazy, that there was some strange connection between them. Determined, he pulled Bilbo closer, daring to set his hand firmly on Bilbo’s ass. 

Bilbo’s eyes widened in surprise, as did John’s. They both pulled out of the kiss, giving each other bewildered looks. They stood for a few moments, simply staring at each other, then they both moved in tandem, nipping at lips, pulling at clothes, each sensation shared between them in a most peculiar way. It felt as though they were touching themselves, the feeling so unique and new they got swept up in it, and before they knew it they were naked, splayed out on Bilbo’s bed and touching every inch of each other.

“Oil,” John moaned.  
“What?” Bilbo’s brow furrowed and he stopped what he was doing.  
“We’re in a fic! Sherlock said there’s always oil!” John began scrabbling at the nightstand desperately. “Aha!” He pulled a vial from the stand and quickly pulled the stopper. 

“Could I- I mean, would you rather…” John gestured vaguely.  
Bilbo eyed the man nervously. “Please, allow me?”  
John looked over the hobbit, noting the significant difference in their sizes. “Yeah, that’s probably best.” He dropped to his back, pulling up his knees to set his feet on the mattress. 

Bilbo crawled up between John’s legs and coated his fingers with oil. He reached down and slowly massaged his finger around John’s entrance. Slowly, he pressed the digit in, feeling both the tight heat of John’s body, and the feeling of intrusion on his own body. He slowly moved his finger in and out until he felt he could add another. Carefully, he added the second finger, shifting and squirming nearly as much as John squirmed beneath him. After a few moments, he decided it was good enough. He thought it was fair for him to make that assumption, as he seemed to be sharing John’s experience in the entire situation. He slicked his cock, lined himself up, and pressed inside.

“Christ!” John shouted, his shoulders and head coming up off the bed as he convulsed.   
“Are you alright?” Bilbo asked.  
“Just move! Move!” John demanded.

Bilbo began thrusting, and John moaned and writhed beneath him, reached a mind shattering climax far too quickly. Bilbo couldn’t hold back. John’s orgasm became his, the two of them lost in each other’s pleasure, until they both collapsed onto the bed.

“Well,” Bilbo panted, “did you feel that?”  
“Oh, I felt it,” John responded in awe. “It was as though I was fucking myself.”  
Bilbo chuckled. “I suppose Sherlock was right.”

“Right about what?” Sherlock’s voice demanded from the doorway.

“I think we’re the same person,” Bilbo answered for John.

Sherlock smirked, quirking his brow. “That was most enlightening. You each reacted to the other as though what you were doing was being done to yourselves.”

“What?” Bilbo frowned, confused. 

Sherlock rolled his eyes.

“You were watching us?!” John demanded angrily.

“What is the meaning of this?!” Thorin appeared next to Sherlock, a dangerous look on his face. “Bilbo! How could you?”  
“Honestly Thorin, I don't see why you're so jealous,” Sherlock declared. “It's practically masturbation.”  
Thorin looked at Sherlock in sheer confusion. “What?”  
“He's right, Thorin,” Bilbo piped in. “After all, John and I are practically the same person.”  
Thorin only looked more confused. “What?”  
Sherlock huffed, giving Bilbo an annoyed look. “Honestly Bilbo, how do you put up with him? He's an idiot.”  
Thorin scowled before lunging at Sherlock.  
Bilbo shook his head. “Honestly, John, how do you put up with him?”  
John heaved a resigned sigh. “It's not easy. He’s an idiot.”

**Author's Note:**

> There will be more of these ridiculous stories in the future! Stay tuned!


End file.
